Dear *****,
They say the first one is always the worst, right? No one understood how I could be so crushed after a week-long relationship, but our relationship wasn't really like that, was it? I've known you since the day you were born, and we [pretend] started a family of our own in kindergarten. And now, now I had to work up the courage to text you to wish you a happy birthday this year. Sometimes life fucking sucks.
And I knew that. I've known that for most of my life. I just never expected you to be one of the reasons it sucked. I expected you to never let ******* play Daddy. I expected you to write silly rap songs for me. I expected you to keep all those old home videos. I expected you to be the first person to really hold me. I expected that the feeling of your arm around my waist would become ordinary. Hell, after we were too old to take baths together anymore, I expected that a day would come when I'd see you naked again. But sometimes life falls short of our expectations, right?
Like after you raised me higher than I've ever been on a bridge of air, then made me look down and watched me fall, you expected that three years later I'd still be hanging there, waiting for you. You expected me to open my arms and take you back into my life as willingly as I did all the other times we were apart. Granted, you expected me to be angry...if I recall, you said the next time I saw you you'd spread your legs and give me a fair shot, because you know you deserve it. But you had all these expectations of being able to walk right back into that soft spot in my heart like nothing had ever happened.
And though it nearly killed me to do it, I didn't let you. I was stronger than that. I cried for days about it afterward, but eh, that was nothing compared to what I was when you destroyed me. Because that's what you did. I'm still not sure you realize that. And looking back now, I think you're the reason I pushed all my friends away, and you're probably the reason for *. If I couldn't trust you, then I couldn't trust anyone, and I could only be involved with someone I knew I couldn't love, because my heart hadn't figured out how to put itself back together again. So I said no, we couldn't try again. I said you had your chance, and you fucked it up, and that was on you. I said, however, that I missed you and wanted us to stay in contact, be friends, and you agreed.
I suppose it was silly of me to believe you. I suppose it's silly of me to have any expectations of you at all anymore, because though you were the first person who ever really knew me, we're strangers to one another now. Strangers with a long and sordid history, but strangers nonetheless. I suppose it's silly of me to want that to change. I've changed too much, and you'd probably have to, unless you have too. I'd settle for something as simple as you showing up on my News Feed on Facebook every once in a while; it seems somehow unfair not to know you.
If nothing else ever changes, I want you to know that I finally un-Humpty-Dumpty'd my heart, and while it sometimes still hurts to think about you, and it sometimes still pisses me off, I'm ready to try again...just not with you.
-The one you let get away, you silly silly boy
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